Experimental Acceleration
by Cries of an Angel
Summary: He probably just saved the world from destruction by an army of socially impaired electric girls. Just great. But what awaits our favorite white haired level 5 teenager on his road to recovery? Will he find hope? Love? Or just get mad and kill everyone?
1. Experiment Initialization

Whoo! There's a section for this stuff! I'm assuming you know what To Aru Majutsu no Index is, then, if you found such a – currently small – section of fandom. Or, I suppose, To Aru Kagaku no Choudenjibou/Railgun, but that probably won't help you, because this fic will eventually contain (major?) **SPOILERS** for the former To Aru's Anime. I'll probably be vague enough to not completely ruin anything, but to a certain extent you're just going to have to know some things. Basically, if you don't know who/what/where/when/why "The Last Order" is...You don't know enough.

Once again, **SPOILER ALERT** for To Aru Majutsu no Index. The anime at least, because this fic will probably end up being canon breaking _so bad...If it isn't already(Novels being out for quite a while, and all)..._But I digress. That's why it's called fan fiction, right?

On that note, I must say that I **DO NOT OWN**(in any way, shape, or form) To Aru Majutsu no Index.

Enjoi.

Experiment Initialization

In the great Academy City, birds chirped as the sun began to rise, giving light to the hustle and bustle of students going to their classes and adults going to work. The cleaning robots made one final sweep of the streets, and the quite murmur of idle chit chat began to rise, the sounds of cars, of people walking, of people talking to one another increased, and suddenly the city became more active, awaking from its slumber during the night.

One young man, however, was much less a part of this morning ritual than usual. Groaning, a white haired teen rose from the depths of sleep, blinking as he was greeted by the blank, white ceiling of the room he was in. Rising into a sitting position, he frowned.

Accelerator looked around him. He was sitting atop a white bed with white sheets and a white pillow. Besides the large window to his left, there were three nondescript, white walls encasing a shiny, white tiled floor. He wasn't in his room, that was for sure. He looked down, at his clothes. Just what the _hell _was he wearing, anyways? It was a peculiar garment, and basically looked like a frikken bed sheet was tied together in a sorry attempt to protect his dignity. What was up with this place? And everything was so god-damned _white_. White walls, white floors, white bed, white clothes – even the damn clouds outside looked whiter than usual. What, were they mocking him, or something? His teeth clenched. Whoever pulled this had some nerve, messing with him. Once he found them, they'd be getting it, for sure...

First, however, he needed to find where _he_ was. No sense plotting revenge when you were lost, after all. He tried to think back, to what would be the source of all this misfortune...

And then he remembered. The MISAKA, the virus, the gunshot, all of it. He remembered his odd temporary companion, his uncharacteristically heroic actions, and the bizarre fight that followed. If you called him being shot at while completely defenseless a fight. But why had he done it all, anyways? For all he went through, he just barely managed to possibly save the world, and in return the world decides it'd be funny to put a bullet in his face. Damn, that little girl was more trouble than she was worth... Now he was in what, a _hospital_ or something?

He grunted.

He wasn't complicated, really. He just wanted to live his life in relative peace, simply content with the knowledge of being the strongest. And he had had that. Until he met a _certain_ boy with a _certain_ right hand and it had all gone down from there.

Regardless of prior circumstance, Accelerator's buried desires had taken back seat to the need to find out just what the _hell_ was going on. Waking up in a hospital was something that had never happened before, on account of the whole pretty-much-never-been-hit-ever thing, and the new experience was not exactly a pleasant one. He heard the door open, and in walked a bubbly, smiling childish face owned by a certain genetically synthesized, electric, annoying little brat.

For some reason, his head really hurt.

"You're awake!" The voice burst, MISAKA scrambling to a space at the side of his bed. For a moment, he had the urge to use his powers to block all noise to try and go back to sleep. "MISAKA just knew you'd wake up soon! 'says MISAKA, MISAKA says with certainty." As though to emphasize the meaning of her words, she stretched her smile and her arms as far as they would go, waving her hands around in an excited fashion.

_Ugh, _He thought. Really, of all the thousands they made, the only one to suffer from the extreme personality defect just had to be the certain one that stuck to him. Taking a glance to his right, he saw the Misaka-clone in question, eyes bright and cheery, swaying her head from side to side. She made a bunch of squealing, high-pitched girly noises, and Accelerator took the time to think of the other, tone deaf ones of her kind in comparison._ Really..._He hung his head and sighed. _I guess in reality it's both types that suffer from screwed up personalities. _

Accelerator's body clenched, and he grit his teeth. Man, why was his head hurting so much?

"MISAKA heard all about it, you know. The doctor said you were really brave, and had done all this stuff to save MISAKA 'says MISAKA, MISAKA knows..."

The room's colors seemed to blend, and Accelerator had the urge to throw up right then and there. To his left, the window gave visage to a sky outside that seemed to be so blindingly bright and...green? The clouds were pink now, too. _Wha...? _Wasn't there something about them just a second ago that pissed him off? He brought his hand in front of his face, but it was so hazy that he could hardly tell the difference between it and the girl at his side.

He looked at her through squinted eyes. She seemed to still be talking, but her voice sounded like a jumbled mess of syllables bubbling from someone speaking underwater. Her shirt looked purple now, too, although he could still discern what seemed to be her energetic body moving in every direction imaginable.

If she realized his discomfort, though, she didn't give any indication of it. She just kept talking, and talking, and talking...Everything warped quickly, becoming even more devoid of recognizable traits than before. Her voice was starting to sound eerily similar to the screech of nails streaking down a chalkboard...

"...And MISAKA heard you even got shot!" That shout in particular had sounded to him like a dying cat on the side of the road.

And it was the last thing he heard before his head hit the pillow.

~-~-~

When he woke this time, his vision was still blurry. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, and eventually he could make out the face of the clock on the wall. It was about half past three in the afternoon.

Good – his eyes seemed to be working again.

He turned his head, and saw the kiddy-MISAKA sitting in a chair next to his bed, frowning and arms crossed.

"Why didn't you say you weren't feeling good?! You're supposed to be getting rest right now! 'worriedly, MISAKA – MISAKA shouts!"

Yeah. Great. Sure, his vision was all good. But maybe he would end up deaf soon, at the volume this shorty was yelling at.

"You need rest, and, and nutrition! You're so skinny! 'firmly notes MISAKA, as MISAKA puts her hands on her hips."

Really. He was pretty sure that he had lived long enough to know what his body could and couldn't handle. He needn't be berated by a brat in such a manner. If memory served correctly, _he _was the one that saved _her _in the end of it all, anyways_._ Andit was probably _her_ fault he got that crazy headache.

As the child raised a finger and opened her mouth to nag at him more, the door opened with a soft 'click' and the doctor walked in.

Or at least Accelerator _thought_ he was the doctor. Doctors usually wore those white suits kind of like scientists, right? Maybe it made them feel like they were smarter than everyone else. Or was proof of it.

The man gave a soft chuckle. "Well, well. Look who's finally woken up. Try to stay that way this time, alright?" He pointed to himself, "I'm the doctor. And a good one, if I do say so myself. We'll get you better in no time."

Accelerator eyed the man. He kind of looked like a frog, but he seemed alright. Accelerator trusted the experts to know what they were talking about. Usually.

Grabbing the chart attached to the unfortunate patient's bed and producing a pen from his coat, he marked down a few things in what Accelerator suspected was some mysterious doctor-code or something. Accelerator sure as hell couldn't read it. But it wasn't like he had much knowledge of hospitals to begin with. The whole never-been-hit thing again, and all.

_What..._Accelerator began to say, but realized he couldn't speak. All that came out of his mouth was a short, rough wheeze. Reaching to his throat, he felt something attached there, a device completely wrapped around his neck.

Answering his unvoiced question, the doctor looked up, "that device there is connected directly to your voice box. It'll stimulate the muscles in your throat, reproducing your voice. It just needs to be calibrated – the shot you took damaged the part of your brain that deals with processing what you want to say and how to say it."

He gave a light chuckle and said, "you should be thankful to the scientists of this city. Normally, getting you to talk again would take at least a year of intense rehabilitation. With this, it shouldn't take more than few minutes. Just try talking like you normally would, and the device will automatically process your vocal patterns. It won't sound exactly the same, but it should be close enough. Technology is wonderful, isn't it?"

A while of raspy sounds and failed attempts later, and Accelerator managed to speak.

"What the hell," he asked, though his voice was unnatural, forced, if just barely recognizable as his, "is going on?"

The doctor then proceeded to inform Accelerator of a bunch of stuff that got all screwed up in his body after the events of that night. It had been almost a week ago, Accelerator learned. 'Miracle you're alive,' 'severe damage to your frontal cortex,' blah blah blah, the general doctor talk and such, he figured, and was suddenly glad that he hadn't been in hospitals before – it was quite evident that he wasn't missing much. After a while he was starting to get tired of it all when the frogish doctor said something that irked him a little.

Apparently, his powers were shot. The doctor explained that, with the whole getting _shot in the frikken head _thing, the processing capabilities of his brain had been significantly reduced. He had reflected the bullet just in time to not die, but the neurons in his brain suffered shock and seemed to be, currently, irreparable. Despite all the extensive surgery they had to do to just keep him living, some things were just beyond a doctor's ability.

"So," the doctor concluded, "try to think too hard and you'll suffer adverse side effects, because your brain will just be trying beyond its capacity. Headaches, dizziness, loss of coordination...And that's just the beginning."

Ah, that explained it. The headache from earlier must have been because of that. He started to dwell on the fact for a moment longer, but then his head started to hurt. He thought he shouldn't think so much anymore. And in thinking of this, his head hurt even more. The whole intentionally thinking of not thinking was throwing him off, and he was really starting to get pretty damn pissed, even if it was all his own fault in the first place.

Possibly noticing his mental dilemma, the doctor placed his hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring smile. "Just try to relax, alright? This will all go a lot more smoothly that way, and it will make control over your thoughts easier." The doctor frowned. "Pent up stress causes panic, which can, among other things, lead to the release of hormones and other chemicals, like adrenaline, and those affect not only your body, but your mind as well."

Accelerator took a second to try and calm down. _Relax, relax...Alright, I can do that..._He took a few deep breaths. _Breathe in, breathe out...Not that hard, right? _He tried not to think about it, and later he faintly realized his head wasn't hurting so much anymore.

No relatively calm – at least as far as could be said, concerning the power-crazy borderline murderer, which meant he was still a little ticked off – Accelerator looked at the doctor. "So," he said, "what happens if I try to think to hard, then? That was a pretty bad headache I had earlier. I don't want any more surprises."

The doctor's face was sullen.

"Eventually, your brain wouldn't even be able to process your body's natural functions, including involuntary muscles. You wouldn't notice it, but you'd stop digesting, sweating, blinking – the little things."

The doctor put his hands in his pockets and looked Accelerator dead in the eyes. Even Accelerator, someone who could count the number of times he'd been scared in his entire life using only the fingers on one hand, was frozen in fear.

"Prioritizing your current thoughts, your brain will then cut off control of your lungs. Then, your heart might even stop – you'd just forget to make your heart beat. You'd most likely suffer a stroke or a heart attack, or maybe even both. You'd be lucky if all the lack of oxygen knocked you unconscious soon enough for your brain to start working again."

"Lucky? How the _hell _would I be lucky?" Accelerator didn't bother hiding his rage. Just what kind of life was that, no thinking or anything?

"Because," the doctor countered, without skipping a beat, "if you aren't rendered unconscious, or unless you manage to purposely beat your own heart _and _remember to breathe, you'll suffocate, unless lack of blood flowing in your body has all your body parts dying individually first. Gangrene will set in, which will cause dead tissue of your fingers and hands to fall off, then your toes and feet, and after that..." Oh, boy. Accelerator certainly did _not_ like the sound of that. It shut him up completely.

"Like I said, if you do get knocked unconscious and your heart remembers to beat, you'll already have been in an oxygen-deprived state long enough that most of your remaining, working brain cells will be dead. Then, even you, one of the level 5's of Academy City, will be rendered comatose, and you'll probably spend what remains of your life in this very room, on life support."

Great. Just frikken great. THAT is what he gets for trying to be nice, for once. Last time he was going to do anything like that. His humanity be damned. He didn't mind being a scumbag, really.

"Honestly, I didn't mean to worry you, or anything. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of the seriousness of the matter at hand.

"Luckily," the doctor said hopefully, "I believe we have a makeshift solution to your problem."

He pointed to the energetic girl that had been temporary forgotten and quiet(_Thank God,_ Accelerator thought). "What I believe we can do is harness the ability of the MISAKA network, which this young girl is, essentially, the control center of. She's quite willing, especially since you saved her. If it weren't for you, all the MISAKA's would be going berserk now, due to the virus.

"No matter what you think of the other Sisters, you can be sure that the remaining 10,000 will surely make up in mental ability what you have lost. Their control over electricity will make things even easier, and you could probably connect your brain directly to the network.

"If you want any hope of recovering, this is the most quick and viable solution."

Accelerator was left speechless. He regained some face by closing his open mouth, and began to stare down, at his bed.

Taking a while to process this information(Because Accelerator had purposely under clocked his brain, the moment was much longer than it should have been. The awkward silence sat for over a minute), he finally gave his response.

"So...I can't use my powers again, or I'll end up with a brain of mush and wind up a vegetable for the rest of eternity," Accelerator crossed his arms and squinted, a look of agitation on his face, "and to prevent that, I'm going to have to hook up my brain to _that _thing, over there?"

Angrily, he swung his arm in the direction of the electric brat, pointing while his eye began to twitch.

The young clone, who was sitting in the chair against the wall, swinging her legs, tilted her head as he gestured towards her, giggled and gave a small little wave.

With one last swing of her legs forward, she leaped up off the chair and took a haughty pose in front of him, her hands upon her hips, chest puffed out, grinning arrogantly.

"_This_ MISAKA here knows every single thing that happens ever to aaaaaaaall of the Sisters around the world," she proclaimed, swinging her right arm, outstretched and in front of her, as if indicating the greatness of area in her influence and control.

"They're not always thinking all the time, you know. We could pool up all the idle processing ability of the Sisters on the network, and then you wouldn't be so stupid anymore! 'proposes MISAKA, as MISAKA looks with hope in her eyes."

Indeed, the child was pleading now, and her eyes sparkled with a great brilliance, even as she insulted him. If her shining eyes and humongous smile didn't look so sincere, Accelerator would have punched her in the face.

The doctor spoke up."She's right, you know. And you're going to need her help, whether you like it or not," the doctor flipped through the pages of his clipboard, staring intensely at one particular page for a few seconds, "because, honestly, it's amazing you're even able to function at all, although you could probably regain the same amount if not more of your original processing capacity by connecting to the MISAKA network."

Finally placing the clipboard by his side, he put on a light smile. "But don't worry about it, okay? We'll give you a while to think about it. Just...Don't think _too _hard about it."

The doctor left, with the small girl following excitedly behind him.

Accelerator heard the click of the door as it closed, verification that he was left alone with his thoughts, and his vain attempts at trying to retain a lack thereof.


	2. Scientific Control

Well...I've come to realize just how canon breaking this story is – err, sorta, at least(It'll be getting even worse later on. Trust me). It's pretty funny, but I mean, it's a fic, so it's alright, isn't it? Hopefully I'll be incorporating canon ideas, at least partially. So expect Accelerator to be getting a cane soon, even if it's obtained through a completely non-canon method. If only because it will make things funny.

I'm _hoping_ to have the next two chapters out before the To Aru Kagaku no Choudenjibou anime starts, but...uh, don't hold your breath. I expected to finish _this_ chapter within a month, and look how that went: a chapter twice as long I intended(And took three times as long to write).

**DISCLAIMER:** Honestly, do you think I'd _really_ own To Aru Majutsu no Index? Have you _seen_ how long it takes me to update? And there are, what? Almost twenty volumes of the light novel out already? You think I can write that fast?

Scientific Control

He was going to be mentally linked to them. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. And he would know, too, because he had been hit by _two _tons of bricks. Sort of. He at least knew that a ton of bricks was a _lot_ of bricks, but any brick(real or metaphorical) could still be deflected by his powers(or simply his state of mind). Either way, the proposition was – as he would find later many things that week were – completely new to him.

It was afternoon now, and a day had already passed since he heard the messed up news of his messed up condition. Blinking, Accelerator sat up and looked about his blank, boring, aggravatingly white room. It seemed so...Empty, so bare. It was also pretty quiet, though he could faintly make out the murmur of doctors and nurses doing their jobs throughout the rest of the building.

He sighed.

Damn hospitals. No wonder he always heard people griping about them so much. Nothing to do except sit there, feeling sorry for yourself.

Only Accelerator never felt sorry for himself. Accelerator never felt sorry for _anyone_. Ever.

Er, well, except maybe that one time. Yeah, the one that got him in that horrible institution in the first place. How he had sorta felt sorry for the Last Order and the Sisters. But that wasn't so much feeling sorry for those electric brats as it was...Something else.

Accelerator was never good with emotions or anything. Anger, hate. Those were easy. They fueled your ability to fight, and when you were pissed the adrenaline rush was amazing. Some would call them 'negative' emotions. Accelerator didn't think that way. Morals be damned.

So, it was quite difficult for Accelerator, who actually enjoyed harboring such dark emotions, to figure out why he had ever extended a helping hand for that girl. From almost every angle the action seemed regrettable, so just..._why? _He had to figure it out.

Ten minutes later and Accelerator had at least some of the facts straight. He knew there wasn't any reason to _not_ save her – it wasn't like he hated her, or anything, even given how annoying she was. He had also managed to rule out the basic reasons normal people would save someone else. Those of "positive" emotional nature. Compassion, love, etc. Easily ruled out because he didn't really care for anyone but himself. Thus, lacking all the normal, humane reactions to the situation, Accelerator ended up almost exactly where he had started started, just trying to figure out why he had picked that path, out of his two options – truly, it all boiled down to why he had picked the choice that he did. He could have just as easily killed her, and the entire ordeal would have been over with.

Back to his reasoning, he figured there wasn't anything to gain out of saving her, at least monetarily. Despite the entire Sister experiment costing God-knows-_how_-much, she probably didn't even have a penny to her name. Her attire upon their first meeting was _quite_ indicative of that fact. He went back to his emotion list.

Empathy, or pity?

...Those were closer. Accelerator knew what it was like to be pitiful. And to pity others. But that just wasn't it. Pity alone wouldn't have been enough for him to act in a way that would endanger his well-being.

...Guilt, maybe?

Bingo.

Guilt, yeah, that was it. Because empathy wasn't one of his strong points. In the end, he figured it was less like "I feel bad that you're all going to go insane within the hour, let me help out," and more like "oh, yeah, sorry – I kinda feel bad(not) about killing half of you. Y'know, like...say, ten thousand or so? So, here's to make up for it." He figured he must have racked up some sort of debt, having killed so many already. But he did _not _like being in debt to _anybody_ – it made it hard to stay isolated. He was always alone, and he pretty much liked it that way. Saving the little girl was just his way of 'thanks.' No, wait. That wasn't it. 'Please?' 'Salutations?' He frowned.

Accelerator never was one to congratulate, or apologize, or use courteous words in general. He supposed it didn't really matter. The little girl had come to accept it, whatever it was, right?

_Speak of the devil, _Accelerator thought. Even through the door, he could begin to hear the screeching voice of the Last Order, booming about the hospital. She was probably loud enough to wake the dead("...gonna visit Accelerator, announces MISAKA, MISAKA tells the world!"), and he could only imagine the chaos raging outside of his room. He heard a crash, and a few panicked shrieks. Man, that girl did not know how to stay out of trouble.

He sighed and shook his head, giving a light smile to the humor of her antics, while the sounds outside escalated in quantity as well as magnitude.

And then, suddenly - _Oh, crap. She's coming to visit me_. His eyes shot wide open. It was obvious, really, because there would be no other reason for her to be wreaking havoc in a hospital – the one that was taking care of him – other than to make a commotion announcing her arrival to visit him. It was just that his whole try-not-to-think thing had him missing even the most blatant of details. It would have been safe to assume that his IQ sat at about fifty, for the time being.

Because he was busy panicking, Accelerator did not notice his door opening. In walked in a nurse, dragging in tow a certain trouble-making Misaka-clone by the back of her shirt. The little girl had her arms crossed and was voicing her opinion of the situation("...didn't do anything, mumbles MISAKA, as MISAKA puts society at fault").

The nurse took a step into the room, and lifted the girl in front of her. The Last Order tried to look innocent. She actually seemed a little cute as she hung there, feet dangling a full foot off the ground.

"Excuse me, sir." The voice startled him, knocking him out of his thoughts and back into reality.

"Huh?" He turned his head and saw the two, a blank look on his face. His mouth dropped. He blinked.

The gears of his mind instantly jammed, coming to a complete halt.

"Uhh..." Great. He, Accelerator, the mighty level 5, was sitting there like an idiot for the umpteenth time that day. And all because of that damn. Freaking. Brat. Who, by the way, still managed to give him a goofy smile despite her obviously uncomfortable position. She even waved.

His mind currently reeling through a mantra of _what the hell do I do, what the hell do I do, _and his mouth letting out various flavors of "uh," "uhm," and "err," Accelerator was completely unfit to grasp the implications of just what was happening.

The nurse lifted the little girl up a little higher.

"Do you know how much trouble this girl has caused? Are you aware that this is a professional medical institution? What, do you think that this is some sort of playground?"

Accelerator made no move to answer her, although given the circumstances he couldn't even if he tried. Which was fine, because the nurse kept on talking, without missing a beat.

"This girl has been left defenseless inside a hospital. Not only could she have compromised a delicate medical procedure, but she could have brought harm to herself and or others. There are many risks involved with caring for patients – do you know how much damage an innocent patient could have suffered due to her rampant disregard for safety, and the the most basic rules of society?"

He just gaped while the nurse kept throwing question after question that he was simply in no condition to answer, while the gears in his head ground against each other so hard he could practically hear them screeching. Must have been creating a lot of friction, too, because he was hit with a massive migraine.

"Oh," the nurse paused momentarily to point at him, noticing something, "your neck. A voice synthesizer?"

"Huh?" Feeling at his neck, he felt the device that was connected there, "Uh, yeah," Accelerator barely managed to rasp. Unknowingly, the mechanical voice that came out of his mouth gave the illusion that the reason he couldn't respond before _wasn't_ due to the fact that he didn't know what the heck to say. "I, uh, just got it yesterday."

"That explains it. Sorry, I didn't realize you had just gone through extensive treatment."

Setting the girl down so that her feet actually touched the floor, but still sure to keep a good grip on her shirt, the nurse sighed and started her interrogation once more.

"I'll try again. Do you know this girl?" Really, he should have taken into account that had he said no, the poor little girl would be forced off the premises, an event that would have pleased him greatly. But before he could think otherwise, Accelerator told her the truth.

"Yeah," he said. He immediately regretted it.

The nurse chuckled softly, and finally let loose her grip on the little girl. The Last Order shrieked with glee and ran over to next to the bed, already chatting up a storm. The nurse looked amused. "Well, I suppose it isn't completely your fault, then, if you're in such a condition. I'll go get the doctor, and make sure it's alright for you to be up."

The nurse promptly turned, walked out, and shut the door, and Accelerator was left with a certain girl with certain annoying tendencies, and the worse part was that he could have stopped it from happening. More than once, now.

The Last Order beamed. "MISAKA's real happy, you know. MISAKA's visiting because you saved her life! 'MISAKA says sincerely, as MISAKA speaks for all the Sisters," she continued on and on with her praise for him, which might have ended up somewhat endearing – if it wasn't so damned annoying. It just kept going, and going, and going... Her and her damn 'appreciation' of his actions.

'Cause, yeah, Accelerator felt really appreciated. Maybe it'd have been better if the annoying girl did go insane, and all of her kind would have ended up crazy. _They're already crazy enough, _Accelerator thought dryly, _the virus probably wouldn't have done anything anyways. Nobody would have ever even noticed. _All that rapid body development must have been bad for their brains. And possibly the whole 'born-to-die' thing. Not that he'd admit to being at fault for that.

Finally having enough of it all, he lay back down on the bed forcefully, and turned so his back to the girl, choosing instead to look out the window.

"Leave me alone," he began to protest, "you damn brat."

His requests fell on deaf ears, because the girl just kept on talking and talking. Listening to that kind of thing was tiring, in the way that it was tiring to listen to a broken record player for hours on end. Maybe he'd try and get some sleep. So, Accelerator decided to just close his eyes and try to ignore her. Normally, though, he could have just blocked out all the vibrations around him and just sit in nice, blissful silence. But he couldn't do that now, because he wouldn't be able to even if he tried. In fact, it would probably fry his brain...

...He tried not to think about it. Too much thinking and he'd be done for.

Or, at least, he thought about not thinking about it. Then, the thinking started to screw up his thoughts. _God damn it, _he thought. Thinking about not thinking again was messing up his head. And thinking about thinking about not thinking got him thinking about it, or at least he thought, because he could remember thinking about –

– Any more damn thinking and Accelerator may have been better off committing suicide just to save himself from the pain of it all. So, Accelerator was left to lay there, gripping his head and fidgeting, cursed with the ability of the mind but with no thoughts with which to allow himself.

Oh, and the voice of a girl so high pitched it most likely bordered on the edge of human perception. That was freaking annoying, too.

Between all his griping and writhing in pain, a thought slowly crept into Accelerator's mind. It gnawed at him, and he shifted in the bed to get more comfortable. He looked at the girl. She was still as annoying as usual: talking, and talking, and talking, of course. He frowned and squinted while still ignoring her words, trying to observe her better. _Something's not right..._ He just couldn't place his finger on it. It was something beyond her normal antics, something that he should have noticed long ago...

It had been bugging him. She was talking to him like they were damned childhood friends, or something. There was a sense of familiarity she seemed to have that just didn't fit. What had brought that about? What, was this a side-effect of her gratitude towards him? He had saved her, that much was fact – even if his reasons for doing so were unclear. But it was just that the way he had saved her...

Then it hit him. Not as hard as a ton of bricks, but rather like when some guy takes a really heavy book and smacks you across the back of the head, the realization hit him. He stared at her.

It came out as a barely audible whisper. Or it would have, if the speaker attached to his neck wasn't on practically full volume.

"You should have forgot." Yeah, what the hell was up with that? He had completely _re-written_ her personality files(with only his powers, a feat that Accelerator would forever be proud of, end results be damned), so she should have reverted to a state where she had never met him before. Her memories should have been deleted, gone, tossed away as rearranged clumps of electrons in her child-sized brain.

For a second she stopped talking, and gave him a quizzical look. "What are you talking about? It was a few weeks ago, there's no way MISAKA could have forgot, says MISAKA –"

"What the hell?!" He suddenly burst. He was in no mood for her innocent act. "I completely wiped your mind! Don't you get it?"

The little girl was taken aback by the sudden action. For a second she looked surprised, and even just a little bit hurt. But, as quickly as it had come, the moment was gone, replaced with a wave of realization and enthusiasm.

"Ah! You mean the personality files!"

...And she was shouting again. Of course. Oh joy. It even seemed to be about twice as loud as last time. Accelerator grit his teeth in pain while she carried on with her explanation, " the whole MISAKA network is connected by our brains, remember? Every single MISAKA knows and remembers everything every other MISAKA does – As long as not all of us are dead, we can back up and restore our memories no matter how many times you delete them! MISAKA boasts as MISAKA haughtily dares you to try."

She had never really done anything to him, but with those words she was better off slapping him in the face. She would never forget. _Never_. He had wiped her mind _knowing _that she'd forget, but now...Once more that day, Accelerator was left speechless – bringing the official count to eight. Nine, if you count both times that thing during lunch("Sir, are you hungry? We have your food here...Uhm, he's not answering, is he all right?" It really didn't help that the nurse was new).

Luckily, before he had enough time to think about it enough to be hit in the face with true, raw, realization, the door swung open and the frog-looking doctor walked in once more.

"Well, how's our miracle patient doing? Not going deaf, are we?"

Accelerator deadpanned, and the doctor gave him a nervous laugh and a sympathetic look, showing that he knew what the teen was going through.

"Hey, doc...There's some thing I want to ask you. About my head, you know, when it hurts because of the thinking."

"Hm? I thought we went over this, already."

"Yeah, but, I mean...Sometimes, it feels like hell, like I'm going to freaking _die_ from thinking too much, it just hurts so bad. But it's not like I'm even thinking hard, or anything!

He was struggling. He didn't like talking to people, especially when it was about himself.

"But I feel almost...Fine, now. Like I could think normally, or something. Sometimes it happens like this. Do you know why?"

Man, he must have been so desperate;he was practically _pleading_ now. It didn't matter though. He surmised that he hit rock bottom long ago, and even he wasn't above asking for help when he _really_ needed it.

"Well," the doctor began after much consideration, "the brain is quite complicated. The phenomenon you're experiencing could be due to any number of factors. For example, after experiencing a certain type of event numerous times, your brain creates many neural links to certain parts of the brain. Despite your brain's capacity being quite low, you can still take advantage of those paths, making it easier to react to situations your more familiar with, with people, and objects, and circumstances you're used to. As such, your brain should be bypassing all of the damaged parts to work close to its original ability.

"This should hold true for almost everything that doesn't involve the portions of the brain that were damaged – more specifically, a large percentage of your motor skills."

"...Huh," Accelerator thought about the answer and turned to look out the window. Which meant he wasn't paying attention when the doctor produced a needle and a test tube from his pocket.

Suddenly, Accelerator felt something stab into his arm. He screeched in surprise. The Last Order laughed at his wussiness.

"Hold still, I just need one more blood sample. For testing purposes." Removing the needle, he put all of the blood into the test tube, marked it, and returned the tube to its place in his pocket.

"Augh! Enough with the tests! Is there any way to get started on this damn thing, already? You know – whatever the hell it is that you're going to do to fix me." He grit his teeth and brought a hand up to tap his temple. "I'd really like it if I could think again without having to worry about my head exploding."

The doctor looked amused. "Don't worry, it won't actually explode. If anything, that would be the least of your worries." He chuckled and the little girl giggled, but Accelerator didn't find it the least bit funny.

"But, ah, that's what I came here to talk about..."

He went into more detail about what it was, exactly, that they were going to do to him. Connecting to the network, they had reasoned, would actually be quite simple. What was one more brain to ten thousand? Almost twenty minutes were spent going over the specifics of it all while The Last Order once again boasted about her abilities.

"...And that's about the gist of it. Your body seems healthy enough, actually, for us to start this 'treatment.' You heal fast, for your age. All that's left is to help out the mental side of things."

The doctor showed the tube again and wiggled it a little. The blood sloshed inside. He began rummaging through some drawers, in search of something.

"All I have to do is run this through a few, final, tests. Just to make sure."

Accelerator nodded slowly. So far, everything made sense. In theory, anyways.

"Well, if you're ready, then, we'll begin as soon as we get the results back. You're eager enough, that's for sure. Here, put this on." In the doctor's hands was a white shirt, with black, diagonal stripes that seemed to form a jagged, alternating pattern of 'v's going down it. Accelerator thought it would probably make him look like a messed up zebra. "Your old shirt wasn't in any condition to be worn again, and this is the closest thing we could find in such short notice. I hope you don't mind – but I'm quite sure you want to get out of that hospital gown as soon as possible."

With a raised eyebrow, Accelerator took the peculiar garment from the doctor's hands, and let his fingers feel the fabric. It seemed comfortable enough, at least.

Ah well, maybe a change in appearance would do him some good. Besides, the doctor was right. He'd do almost anything to get out of those messed up hospital clothes.

~-~-~

Accelerator didn't like the idea of connecting his head to anything, especially a group of messed up clones. While it was probably his only hope, he just didn't feel that it was a very well thought-out plan, putting his life in the hands of a girl who looked like she was eight(And in reality was probably less than a year old) and her ten thousand Sisters(Who, while looking around his age were probably less than four).

It wasn't personal, or anything. Accelerator just didn't really trust anyone, no matter how innocent they could look.

And yet, here he was, standing in front of this young girl, his apparent 'savior'(Wasn't it supposed to be the other way around?), who looked to be in a state of deep thought, eyes closed and arms extended. The doctor quietly observed a few feet away.

Suddenly, the girl jerked out of her trance and into her normal attitude, practically shouting once more. "Alrighty! MISAKA's gonna hook you up now, says MISAKA as MISAKA forces your brain in!"

"Wha-?!" But before he could so much mouth(synthesize) a word of protest, a surge of electricity gripped his brain, his body froze, and everything went black.

~-~-~

He didn't know how long the sensation lasted. He felt numb, and everything was going so slow, yet so fast. He didn't know where he was – for an instant he didn't even know _who_ he was. He slowly regained himself, and found that he was right where he had been moments before, in the hospital. But it was different now. His body was separated from his mind – though how this was possible, he wasn't able to say. All he knew was that he was...Different, now, and that he was not alone. Swarming around him were others, many others, in a state a lot like his. He realized that it was all of the Sisters.

He was connected to the MISAKA Network.

The flow was somewhat calming; the slow current of thoughts was new and uncomfortable, but not completely unwelcome. It filled Accelerator with awe, to be connected to so many people at once. The Sister's weren't a very original bunch, so it was easy to mesh his thoughts with theirs because their ideas were so identical to each other. Instead of combating thousands of consciences for mental dominance, it seemed more like he just had to fit himself in with the giant, preexisting entity known as the MISAKA Network – that they were of one mind, that they were all one giant colony of Misaka-clones, with the Last Order, ironically enough, as their queen.

It was the Last Order herself that seemed to guide him through the complicated spiderweb of the network, leading him through the orderly but confusing hallways of the synthetic labyrinth. It was almost as if she was holding his hand, enthusiastically pulling him through the zigs and the zags of hallways the network consisted of. It was so huge, but traversing it was absolutely no problem. Accelerator figured electricity worked like that, or something.

It was so zen – he felt so insignificant, yet his mental perspective had never been so broad. He had no true physical presence, but it was easy to tell that everyone had a place, relative to one another.

And then, suddenly, it changed.

With a rush to his cranial muscles, the electricity shifted paths through his mind, racing through neurons and sending wave after wave of endless confusion to his head. His brain was overwhelmed by the thoughts, the commands, the signals that were sent to it, all but few not its own. Accelerator tried and failed at moving his eyes, and then realized he couldn't move anything else, either. His feet were in a wide stance, and his hands clutched his head with a grip so tight it felt as though it were wrapped around by a python. Bent over slightly, he tried moving his legs, his feet, his toes, his _anything_, but it was all to no avail.

The Last Order's grip on him was lost. He had completely lost control over himself, trapped within the giant web of the mental network.

His body attempted to regulate itself. He was certain his heart was still functional, his lungs were still working – if only indicated by his quick, ragged breathing and his heart pounding against his chest at a million beats per minute. It seemed that his body was all right, it was simply his _mind _that had been lost, or at least his control thereof. His body still sweat, he could hear his own ragged breaths, he could still _feel_ everything – was his mouth this dry before? When was the last time he ate, or drank, anyway? God, why did he feel so weak?

Struggling, his mind stretched, shifted, all at once thinking, yet at the same time completely empty. Hungry. He was hungry. Briefly, he was cognizant of this, and his focus switched almost immediately to the floor. There were twenty-seven one-foot by one-foot tiles. His brain shifted gears once again. Wind speed outside was roughly seven miles per hour, in a general westward direction. There was a twelve percent chance of precipitation, rising to approximately forty-two by Wednesday. Humidity in the room was almost thirty percent, and the ambient noise around him reached roughly eighty-two decibels, seventy-nine percent of which was coming from the child-sized body to his left, fourteen from sources outside the room, six from-

In an instant, the sensation left as quickly as it had come. All the random thoughts ended. For the first time in his life, Accelerator truly realized what it meant to have control over himself, and he had never been happier to just be able to blink. His facial expression shifted from relief to fear to pain and then finally set on a mixture of all three.

Panting, Accelerator fell backwards to sit on the ground, legs out in front of him. He let the muscles of his body loosen, and eased the death grip on his own head. No matter how much he tried to relax, however, he still couldn't shake the feeling of fear coursing through his body, or the random jolts of surprise, or the fidgety movements of his arms and legs. Slowly, however, his breathing started to become much more normal, and then he turned wide eyed to the people beside him.

The Last Order had been yelling with worry, apparently. Teary eyed, she fidgeted with her fingers and bit the lower portion of her lip, eyes shifting up and down, from the floor, to Accelerator, and back again.

The doctor's face was unreadable, and was partially hidden by the clipboard upon which he was furiously taking notes.

Slowly, Accelerator rose, stumbling as he did so, but by grabbing the side of the bed, he managed to steady himself into standing up. When the feelings of fear and shock began to subside, they were slowly replaced by the bubbling anger inside of him.

Accelerator frikken _hated _hospitals.


End file.
